Share the Pain
by Yosuke
Summary: How far can homophobia be taken...?


Share the Pain  
  
Yosuke  
  
PG-13 (that's a first)  
  
Drama/Angst  
  
AN: This story took a solid four hours to write, and all done in my pajamas. I also kinda rushed, so if there are a lot of grammatical or spelling errors, just don't mind them and tell me what you think of the story as a whole. This is also a "Lend Your Opinion" kinda thing, but I warn you, anything offensive towards the topic of this story will provoke my special "Doom On You" magic attack -50MP. Okay, so... enjoy! ^^  
  
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It wasn't fair, nor was it funny. Eiri Yuki never had to wait on people before. If anything, people waited on him; his manuscripts always came later. No one bothered to bite his head off about it, though. No one had the guts. And so, with a reputation adding to his own lady-killer intentions as the "One who takes his time", Eiri Yuki was becoming impatient.  
  
Very impatient.  
  
The kid said he'd be home around 7:00 that night. 7:00. It was 9:00. Usually, Eiri didn't care either way. Whether or not he came home at all that day wouldn't have been a big deal. But Shuuichi had made him absolutely promise not to start dinner without him. It was a Shuuichi-Happy Day, apparently. The singer had woken up great, had a good breakfast, gone to work just fine... And of course, above all, greeted the love of his life in the morning just the way he did every day. Insert imagination.   
  
Eiri wasn't a great promise-keeper. Most promises seemed too insignificant to bother with and he usually just brushed them off. But the kid would chew his arm off if he broke a promise that he thought was so important.   
  
Eiri Yuki could survive without an arm. However, he could not survive without something to eat. "I'll just type with one hand," he told himself, rumaging through his kitchen. He needed something to silence his stomach. He had skipped breakfast and lunch, due to his overdue manuscript. It was one of his latest in history. Kanna Mizuki would take off his other arm with a switch-blade if she had to just to take the manuscript off his hands and turn into the company. His editors, as pissed as they'd be, would usually wait until he was completely finished so that it would be another masterpiece to add to the shelf. He was going too slow, though. The editors were practically sending him death-threats. He had pretty much sold his body, mind, and soul to this company. Meals would have to be sacrifices in order to make the deadlines.  
  
The computer had practically sucked the energy right out of him. Ten hours of staring straight into a glowing monitor with a constant blinking insertion point was enough to make anyone's eyes dialate for the next three hours. Eiri rubbed his eyes and resorted to the last thing he could think of when there was no food to be eaten: Beer.   
  
He took out a can, the second to last one on the top shelf, popped the lid, and took a small sip. For the first time that day, he could actually feel his mouth.   
  
There was the contemplation of whether or not he should bother going out to buy something to eat. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched a leg. Too weak. Stay in. Absorb powers. He sipped his beer again.   
  
The clock on the wall read 9:05. It was too quiet in the house for this time of night. Usually, Shuuichi was in the living room, watching TV or singing some new lyrics he'd thought of or was hanging all over Eiri, begging for some attention. Eiri took another swig of his beer. In the beginning, before Shuuichi came to live with him, the silence was all he could stand. Now it just bore into his head and drove him crazy.  
  
The couch seemed comforting. He lay down on it after entering the living room. Blindly, he put his beer can on the floor and draped an arm over his face. Usually, whenever he lay like this, he anticipated the 19-year-old singer to pounce on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Eiri would yell at him, Shuuichi would just smile, and they would--  
  
Shit, the boy was like a plague in his head. It wouldn't go away. Whenever he was around, Eiri wanted him to leave him alone, but whenever he was gone, he wanted him around so badly.   
  
His thoughts were interrupted when a sharp ringing sound penetrated the silence of the room. Eiri was a little startled, but made no immediate moves for the cell phone in his pants pocket. Two people regularly called his cell: his sister, Mika, or his brother-in-law, Tohma. Whichever, he wasn't too desperate to talk to right then. But his eyes opened and he paid careful attention when the ringing stopped after the second ring. Odd. He reached for his phone in his pocket and checked the 'missed calls' list. It was Shuuichi who had called. Why had he called the cell when he knew that Eiri would be home all day? Then Eiri began to recollect his thoughts. He knew Shuuichi knew that Eiri hardly ever answered the home phone while he was working on his novel. If he didn't pick up the phone, then Shuuichi knew to make whatever decisions for himself and Eiri would correct them later. Eiri's cell phone, however, was more along the lines of urgency. Immediate contact. Why Shuuichi had hung up before he had answered was a different story. Probably had changed his mind at the last second and decided it was better not to bother him.   
  
Eiri groaned and tossed the cell onto the couch above him. His stomach growled again. Fumbling for his beer can, he sat up. Before he brought it to his lips, however, he noticed it was empty. He drank whatever drops were left in the can, then tossed it towards the trash can halfway across the room. He missed. With a sharp clatter, then can rolled slowly towards the TV set. It stopped when it collided with an empty Nittle Grasper VHS box. Once again, Eiri was remined of the pink-haired pop singer. Partly because the tape belonged to him. Also partly because the singer on the front, Ryuuichi Sakuma, was a complete mirror-image of him.  
  
Shuuichi had called his cell phone.  
  
He was almost out of beer.  
  
He was hungry as hell.   
  
1+1+1=Get his ass up, out of the house, and find each factor.   
  
Eiri slipped his shoes on and grabbed his coat. He didn't know for a fact what the weather was like outside. The coat just made him feel secure.   
  
As he exited his home, the thought never even ran across his mind that he had left his cell phone AND his wallet...  
  
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Shuuichi cringed as the group of guys around him drew closer, taunting and teasing. Normally, he had grown accustomed to being surrounded and cornered like this... but usually by paparazzi. Half of the guys threatening him here were drunk and very angry.   
  
Shuuichi felt one of his knees buckle. He gasped as he stumbled, slamming his back against the brick wall in the alley. He heard some of the guys laugh.   
  
"How's it feel to be in the dirt, faggot?" one of them called out. Shuuichi made eye contact with that one. He was apparently the ring leader. The singer pulled himself to his feet, drew in a deep breath, then ran towards the main guy with a curled fist. But before he could connect, the leader threw an arm at him and sent the idol back to where he started. His head hit against the wall. He let out a cry, clutching at the back of his head. The boys once again laughed.   
  
"Yeah, ya damn queer, keep in the dirt!"  
  
"We don't need fags like you runnin' around in our city giving us a bad name!  
  
"Homo-freak!" One of them reeled back and threw his empty beer bottle near Shuuichi. It crashed on the wall near his head and exploded into hundreds of tiny pieces. Some landed in Shuuichi's hair or cut across his face. Shuuichi cried out again and scooted a foot across the wall, placing a hand over the cuts on his face. Another boy found it fun and threw his beer bottle at him as well. Shuuichi managed to pull his leg back in time before it connected with him. The bottle smashed where his limb once was, but the force of the throw managed to send two large chunks of glass towards Shuuichi's leg. They cut across neatly, leaving two four-inch long wounds to bleed openly. The pink-haired boy bit his bottom lip to keep from yelling again. He clutched his leg, trying to stop the bleeding.  
  
"Were you trying to call your boyfriend earlier?" the leader said, bringing Shuuichi's cell phone into view. He tossed it up and down in one hand, giving him a taunting smile. Shuuichi remembered when he had tried to call Eiri on his cell phone to come and rescue him, but the leader had taken the cell away from him and given him a few punches across the face. The singer cringed again and sat up straight, curling his body up to protect himself.   
  
"You're really going to hurt me like this because I'm gay? Because there's a man I'm in love with? Since when was my personal life such a big deal to street freaks like you?!" he shouted out. The leader growled and approached Shuuichi. Grabbing him by the shoulder, he proceeded in beating the shit out of him.  
  
"You callin' US freaks?? You're the queer, you son of a bitch!!"  
  
"Stupid faggot!!" the others started to shout a little. Shuuichi closed his eyes tightly and put his arms over his head, trying to protect himself as much as he could. What he was afraid most would happen DID happen: he started to cry. Was this the price he had to pay just because he was gay? Because he was in love with Eiri Yuki, he had to be beaten and degraded like this? He was worthless now because he was in love with another man?   
  
Shuuichi felt so small at that moment. No matter how hard they beat him, no matter how many bones they broke, even if they KILLED him, he would refuse to believe that his love for Eiri was wrong. It wasn't wrong. It wasn't wrong. It wasn't... wrong...  
  
Shuuichi felt his body grow heavy. Every spot where he had been hit began to throb terribly. He didn't even try to open his eyes. He was too afraid to stare into those hateful eyes. Breathing became harder, as most of the guy's punches seemed aimed at his stomach.   
  
'I wanna go home to Yuki,' he thought childishly. 'I wanna see him.'  
  
When he was sure that a few more punches would take out his concsiousness completely, he heard the yelp of the ring leader, then the thud as his body hit the wall next to Shuuichi. The boy was almost afraid, but he opened his eyes to stare in terror up at Eiri Yuki. Shuuichi began to tremble slightly.  
  
"Hey, you're that faggot novelist who's sleepin' with that punk!" one guy from the ring shouted. Eiri's eyes were cold and hard as he decided which one to kill first. Two guys made an advancement on him.  
  
Shuuichi was too stupefied and in pain to know exactly what happened, but in the ened, the two opposing guys were on the ground, their breath knocked out of them. Eiri's eyes once again scanned over the group, sending a silent dare. No one met the challenge. Instead, they fled in fear. The two beaten guys on the ground coughed roughly and stumbled back to their feet. They also fled.  
  
"Faggot..." the ring leader on the ground coughed out. Eiri turned slowly to face him. He was back on his feet and wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth. "We don't need goddamn homos running this city!"  
  
Eiri said nothing. His cold, yellow glare said it all. The leader said nothing more, but instead tried to attack Eiri.   
  
Shuuichi watched with amazement as the leader went flying a good twenty feet, landing roughly on his back. He groaned in pain, trying vainly to move himself to sit up. Eiri walked over to him, making quiet taps from the bottom of his shoes the only sound echoing through the alley. The novelist reached down to the leader, grabbed his collar, and swung one hard fist at his face. He was knocked out instantly. Blood began pouring from his nose.   
  
A thud sounded as Eiri let go the leader, letting him drop back onto the pavement.   
  
Shuuichi was frozen. He didn't know what to do, what to say. His hands had instinctively grabbed at the cuts on his leg, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. His hands were now soaked in blood. He was still trembling. His gaze flew down to his feet when Eiri turned and looked at him. The tall, blond-haired man was just a silohuette against the light in the back of the alley. Shuuichi couldn't read his face clearly enough to know what kind of emotion he was wearing. He merely drew closer into himself, and for the first time since Eiri had shown up, he realized that he was still crying. He wiped at his face with the backs of the sleeves, then once again turned to stare down at his shoes.   
  
A moment later, to his suprise, he found Eiri Yuki standing directly in front of him. No, not standing... kneeling down before him with his hands on his the singer's arms. Shuuichi still didn't meet his gaze. The shame was written clear across his face. He couldn't stick up for himself when it came to matters he so very much believed in. He couldn't stick up for his love for Eiri. And even more... he couldn't even defend himself. Not even against a small group of homophobics... But the hurt cut even deeper than that. Was it so wrong? Was it all wrong? Was it not right...?  
  
Shuuichi couldn't stop himself when sobs emitted from his mouth. Tears began to pour. He took a glimpse up at Eiri, and from the normal look of cold annoyance that flashed in his eyes... there was sympathy and understanding. Eiri wasn't angry. He wasn't ashamed. Shuuichi closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to his knees, crying. The dirt marks and blood drops mixed with his tears and made ugly trails down his face. He only cried harder when Eiri reassuringly put his arms around the idol and moved to sit next to him, holding him carefully. It wasn't a move Eiri would normally make, but under cirumstances like this, circumstances that involved him as deeply as it had involved Shuuichi, his now bruised, beaten, and degraded lover... all he could try to do was share the pain.   
  
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Homophobia - n. Fear of homosexuals or homosexuality. ---homophobic  
  
Homophobia - n. Fear of or contempt for lesbians and gay men.  
  
AN: If you're so fearful of us, then why don't you just back off and leave us alone? 


End file.
